I'm dying to know, Kenny!
by TCBN
Summary: Kenny, angry about his frequent deaths, contemplates why he keeps dying. well... about his repeated deaths. and he gets depressed about it. we look at what Kenny does, to try and tell his friends. why. warning: this story may be confronting. It also uses lots of swear words and Kenny humour. All characters used in this story (not OC Janet) is owned by Matt and Trey Parker!
1. Another Day

Deep in thought Kenny contemplated on the very idea of death. Why couldn't he die? –well of course he can't die because his parents went to that stupid cult meeting and every single godamn time, he would kill himself right in front of his friends and strangers. Each and every single time, they would never, ever in their whole entire life span, remember. Not ever. Ever.

"dude! You awake there!?" Stan asked him as the bus jolted to a violent halt. The violent halt sent Kenny into the windshield, and whilst airborne, Stan had already started saying the old catchphrase, Kyle finished off his reply when Kenny's skull made impact. Stan looked heavily confused and asked Kyle "did I give him a fright or was that the breaks?" Kenny just lay there, waiting for the black out.

… … …

"Fuck!" Kenny flipped off the ceiling as he woke up in bed. Kenny was already dead within minutes and he couldn't even survive five seconds of being awake, why was dying so frequent! Walking to school, the bus already making way for the depot, blood splatters somehow being ignored, Kenny walked into the Elementary school, sat in his normal chair.

"Dude, why did you run away!?" Kyle questioned, that innocent, clueless face actually pissed Kenny off so much. He couldn't be pissed off at them clueless souls. Why? Well they can't fucking remember you fucking MORON! Stan turned around slowly, face white, jaw agape "dude, did you clal me a fucking moron?" Kenny shook his head, "No, dude." Stan quickly turned around, reassured "oh okay"… "self absorbed, asshole" Kenny thought to himself. "Dude?" Kyle pressed. Kenny replied "I am not sure" flat. A flat response for every single time anyone asked him. He would flatly reply "I am not sure" and typically that would require them to scratch their circular heads and wonder why the fuck Kenny just can't stop running away? Why the fuck can't Kenny stay put? Kenny would shrug it off. Every single fucking time. They would always ask him the same question and he would always shove them up their own chin scratching, head massaging and brain churning routine. Always.

Kenny drifted off into his own world of sheer heartless words and deep thoughts. Or maybe he could try and not die? How would that work? Maybe if… wow… death really is good. Hm? No not in an emo sadistic murderer way… really! I mean… living IS living with birth to death. This…. What the fuck is this!? This is like the pause button being pressed and the batteries being taken out…. Oh god. What if… what if I keep coming back and I keep dying from cancer. Holy… aw man… Jesus… astrix..

"Dude, you're going to break your pencil by doing that" Kenny said as Stan face planted for the hundredth time. "Well! I'm the one who plays quarterback! Not… thi-OOOOSHUIT" Kyle and Kenny burst out laughing, on the sideline, as Stan was impaled by another red opposing ball the size of hell. Kyle replaced Stan's spot as another ball slammed him off ground. "Hay no fair! I didn't even enter the line!" Kyle complained. Kenny sighed, stepped into the line. And faced the angry team members that stood before him, ready to strike. Kenny didn't even bother trying to dodge the ball. He just picked up a nearby pencil and threw it. Like a spear, mind you.


	2. Breaking Down

One of the players screamed; head jerked back, falling backwards, arms winding like a windmill as he or her collapsed into a screaming fit, fists pummeling, feet kicking and fingers snatching at the protruding pencil sticking out of his or her eye. She or he rolled over in pain, veins pulsating as she or he yelled a long winding list of profanities at Kenny. Kenny stood there. Not entirely sure why the hell he threw the pencil or even how he managed to aim… so well.

Mentally applauding himself for his spectacular aim, he walked over to the wounded player and tried to take off his or her hand over the eye, which was helplessly yanking at the pencil, the other hand batting off other friends, smacking one of them on the head as the player yowled. Kenny wasn't sure whether to fend himself from the other formerly aggressive players or to help the unnamed player and express horror and grief like all the other players were doing. "Move!" Kenny shouted, as he tried to sit with the player. He was greeted with a swift kick in the shin and a very serious and angry "fuck off, asshole" the flailing, wet blob of hair and blood and uniform. "We-ell… I tried" Kenny stalked off, unsure how on earth he could respond to—goddamnit, people keep cutting my internal dialogue off!

"H- hey fellas! You got one in the eye? Like me?" Kenny pushed past Butters, really not wanting to dwell on what he had done or the fact he didn't know what to do. Butters followed him, pestering "hey, we should go help the k-" Kenny started running, down the hall and practically around the block, hoping to lose the naïve person, and hid next to a fountain…. Which…. His sister tended to loiter.

"Where are you going?" someone asked. "FUCK OFF YOU BLOOD BELCHING, PARASITIC, DEEP FRIED PILE OF SH-" Kenny automatically roared, jumping up, fists punching the air, ready to strike. Karen looked at Kenny with the biggest WTF in the history of WTF faces ever pulled by man kind. She stood there, horrified, Kenny regained his sanity and blinked, "shi—dude, I'm sorry. I'm having a really bad day" Kenny tried, face reddening by the millisecond. He tried injecting sympathy in his voice but Karen just scurried off, presumably to wipe herself of that memory or to cry in a corner, he didn't know.

He sat in the empty cafeteria, alone, thinking about what was happening. Something had clearly snapped. He wasn't sure what- Behind him, the sound of chips crunching and saliva being gargled erupted in his earhole, making the millions of hairs in his ear sweat from the heat. With that, he turned around to see Cartman sitting next to him, eating a packet of Cheesy Poofs twice the size of Ike Broflovski, crunching, cracking, churning each greasy, shiny plump fistful of chips like Satan grinding the torture device in hell, into his mouth like some fat kid at a school cafeteria. The irony here was he WAS a fat kid in the cafeteria. And it wasn't even lunch time. Or even period 2, mind you.

"Hey, Kinny! What are you doing here?" Cartman belched, wiping the greasy mess further along his shirt, the table and of course, spraying crumbs and saliva onto Kenny, to which Kenny recoiled as if he was being smacked in the face with in dodge ball. "Cartman, what are you doing!?" Kenny interjected, disgusted and practically horrified that Cartman had snuck into the cafeteria and managed to get himself a pack of chips from the kitchen. Maybe he should leave, he wanted to be alone, maybe at the swingset… He stood up, lifting off a chip from his parka, flinging it aside, repulsed. "Dude, you gotta watch your—" Cartman laughed, chip particles, his breakfast and dinner spewing onto the table and onto Kenny, once again "yes, my mess! Thank you my dear frie—where are you goin-" Kenny had already dived for the doors, pushing then forward and sprinting, the minute Cart man opened his mouth. Cartman looked at the doors swing backwards and slow with momentum, in Kenny's wake, feeling dejected momentarily and reassured once a fistful of Cheesy Poofs was being taken care of.


	3. Questions

... ... ...

Kenny burst out of the doors and wedged himself into a swing seat, slammed his face into his hands and sat. No thoughts dared to pass through his mind. No memories, nothing. Just blank misery. He simply just blanked it. He wasn't acting the way he was. He wasn't being himself. He knew something had snapped. Something in his mind. One too many. The sound of snow being mashed and flattened under someone's footsteps became audible. And it got closer and closer until two feet appeared in Kenny's line of vision. His head was down and he could see through the cracks of his fingers. They weren't Karen's, though he needed to apologize, they weren't Stan or Kyle since they were still in class. And they were most definitely not Cartman's, as he was a fat fuck. He looked away, motioning the two feet to go away. Instead the two feet walked left and the sound of a swing being sat rang out. "what's wrong?" he didn't say anything for a moment, looked up and registered it was one of the people from his class that he never spoke to or ever really knew existed. "I'm fine, please leave me alone. I don't want to talk right now, sorry" he trailed off. Dammit, she wasn't leaving.

She sat, swinging the swing like god playing with Kenny's life "Please, I'm dying to know, Kenny!" she begged him to tell him what was ravaging his mind of his sanity, his normal behavior and, of course his life. Kenny sighed "No, I can't ever tell you, none of you will ever understand" Ever, because the only way to prove my inability to die is for you to remember. And you're not dying, he thought.

"I heard what happened at the courts today" she said, sympathetically. Kenny could tell the sympathy was put on. And really terribly layered on, like a blind surgeon with no arms, not that the surgeon would be able to sew. "uh- How did you find out?" he questioned, thinking of a form of revenge against the two massive blabber mouths in history, Bebe and Wendy. Why. And how did they even manage to get the word around in under five minutes! Wow! New record! Ha fucking ha ha bloody old fuckin' ha. Fuck. He rolled his eyes at his thoughts. "I was there, Kenny" she said, flat and serious "I tried to go after you but the fact that Kyle and Stan didn't even go after you meant that you might have wanted to be alone" she sighed. Kenny responded, mysteriously annoyed with her conclusion "They were floored, they were the ones that your team members threw down, they would have gone after me if you people didn't shoot so hard" he yelled. She was taken aback "I was on your side! The new member is the new kid! From the year below!" Now it was Kenny's turn to be taken aback, and deeply embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I.. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me or with what is wrong with me!" he confessed.

The bell rang, recess was starting and Stan, Kyle and grease free Cartman walked towards them. Kenny wasn't sure if he should stay with his new friend…. Speaking of new friends. "Hey, uh, im Kenny, what's your name?" he asked, looking up at newly empty swing next to him, swinging by itself. He looked over and saw that she had already gone to sit with Wendy, Bebe and a whole other crowd of girls ten feet away. Ah well, at least he tried. Asshole. He thought. Wait, why was he flipping off every single human being!? Wasn't that Stan's job!? He's the cynic!

Stan gratefully sat on the swing seat next to him and bowed over as if someone had surgically snapped his chipolata off. "dude, what the hell happened!?" Kyle asked. Why did he ask so many questions! Why! He would never know the answer… well… he kinda wished he didn't. Kenny shrugged, sighing "Something's snapped, I don't know. I feel like I can't take it anymore". Kyle questioned again, that innocent face visible, which angered Kenny, each time. "what can't you take anymore?" Kenny froze, how could he say? What could he do, to make his friends understand him. To Understand his problem! To understand why! To understand the world of hell he goes through. To understa— "Kenny?" Stan interjected, looking up from his bowed over position, as if hiking up his pants. "life. Guys. Im tired of my life." And for once, their faces turned to terror. They thought their friend was suicidal. The appropriate response to his deaths… Kyle ripped into Kenny about how wrong suicide was, how there was so much to live for, how he was only ten years old, how everyone would miss him… so many thoughts… followed byeyes the size of dinner plates and a small, feeble "Why?".

"I'm dying to know, too"


	4. Dealing With Daemons

Kenny kept dying and he knew very well why. He just wasn't sure…. Why. He wasn't sure why, why it happened. He wasn't sure why they went to the cult meet or some shot off place he had never heard of. He inhaled, about to confess something about his misery when...

*cr-UNCH* *burp* *chomp* *splat*

Kyle's face of sympathy and reassurance contorted to fury, even Kenny nearly fell off the swing in fear. Kyle turned around to Cartman, finger jabbing at a brand new Cheesy Poofs packet, twice the size of himself, he shouted

"Why the fuck are you eating when our friend is depressed! Why are you such a fat fucking fuck!" Cartman's retort came back, easily feeble and filled with words of familiar swearing and, of course, ripping on Kyle.

"You're a fucking Joo!" Kyle rolled his eyes at Cartman's feeble response

"shut up, fatass!" "I'm not fat, I'm big boned!"

"Shut up, Joo!"

"You're as fat as a fucking fat pig! And when people see you, they go oh my god that one… big FAT FUCKING ASS!"

Kenny looked sideways at Stan, who was bolt upright, not entirely comfortable with what was happening. Despite it happening frequently, Kenny and Stan just sat wide eyed, watching them tear chunks off each other with verbal profanities and of course anti-sematic slurs. Stan tried to feebly cut the argument off

"can you rip on each other later?" he asked, to no avail. Stan looked around, clearly desperate for a distraction. Once he did find it, he jumped off the swing set, leaving Kenny to watch Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum finger jab, wag their chins and stamp their feet like two elephants trying to take a shit. Kenny slid off the swingset and left. Kenny had his own daemons to deal with.

**where should this story go? review and i might be influenced**


	5. Putting the puzzle togethor

After a while of Karen blinking, hiccupping and bawling as was Kenny pacing the room, spouting off a whole speech about how sorry he was about how he flipped out like and how he was genuinely not feeling right. She told him that wasn't why she was so upset. She knew Kenny's mistake, but what Kenny didn't know, what why Karen was upset.

"P- Pinkerton!?" Kenny spluttered in horror and surprise. Karen nodded, looking down. She looked miserable "she was the one you stabbed in the eye" He sighed to himself. He was annoyed people referred to it as stab. Not throw. He threw the pencil in anger. And Pinkerton's eye socket was in the way! He fumed to himself. At the dinner table, their parents were too busy shouting at each other like skinny, hungry pigs in a pen to notice Karen was prodding her food like some infected disease and she was hiccupping wet tears noisily at the table, thankfully not as messily as Cartman with Cheesy Poofs. The memories of eating and slurping ricocheted into his earhole once again, causing him to shiver in disgust. "she's been bullying me. Like in the other school" she sniffed. He sighed, put on the Mysterion voice which slid off like oil in three seconds flat "I will take care of it" she didn't seem to register that Kenny had made an effort to remotely sound like Mysterion. He was too tired. And something had snapped, clearly. He felt he had to do something. To stop Karen's problems, of course, but maybe if he did something that he would normally do. He would beable to revert himself to normal. Tomorrow, he thought, watching a wine glass go flying, smacking the wall and crumpling into a deep red puddle beside him, "she's going down" Karen looked relieved at Kenny's comment. She had to be. As he felt some anger left in him from a few months ago.

The next morning, walked towards the new girl who was at her locker, shoulders deep in the locker as she hugged her stuff and dumped it on the ground, sending crayons, erasers, sharpeners spinning and spiking several other students on the leg as they walked past. Kenny walked up to her, struggling immensely to paint on a face of sympathy, regret and apologetic vibes. "Dude… about earlier, I'm sorry" he started, when she turned around "Hey, Kenny. It's Janet" she said, grinning, not bothering to save a waterbottle from hurtling out of her locker, like a jumper committing suicide. The fall. The freedom, the finality. And of course, the show. The water bottle had regurgitated a wave of water onto another student, staining the wooden floor like thick, dried, blood. That student looked all too familiar, turning around, eye bandaged and a frown from hell…. She was someone from the foster homes. Suddenly Kenny was happy the pencil went in her eye after all. "Kenny? Kenny, are you okay?" Janet asked, looking at Kenny staring intently at the water bottle, bleeding out its last drop onto the ground. He looked up, waving off his thoughts once again "hey Janet-" the girl that was staring at them stood, fuming, fists clenching and teeth gritted.

"Hey, asswipe!" Pinkerton fumed, jerking a fist to Kenny as if to catch his attention "go die in hell!" she shouted. "Pinkerton" he observed "go fuck yourself" Janet behind him started chuckling "that is the most feeble comeback I have ever heard!" she giggled helplessly. Kenny knew that himself. He was tired, nothing ever seemed to go right. Pinkerton just seethed for a few more minutes in front of him and left, carefully walking away, slowly.

"Janet, there's something you should know" he said, turning around to Janet, who seemed to be struggling to stifle her laughter. When she heard his serious tone, her hiccupping giggles stopped like someone's beeper flat lining in hospital, meaning they were dead. "I'm not mortal" he sighed, waiting for Janet to burst out into snotty laughter. She didn't. "I can't die. And every time I do… I just come back… from death… and they, they never remember" he sighed. It was all coming out, someone had turned on the taps, and now he was spouting a water fountain of stone cold truths "and I can't die!" he repeated, "I can only die if an immortal kills me!" crap. He was now sniffing back tears. "I'm sorry, Kenny" Janet tried, not sure how to reassure someone who just spoke to her yesterday for the first time ever. She had a face of sympathy. Real sympathy, she looked really troubled, as if she was a judge of someone else's life span. Kenny realized her stricken expression and tried to soften the impact "it's not your fault. I'm just…. Not.. myself" he admitted. Janet "I know" she said quietly. Kenny wasn't sure how the hell she knew, he was too miserable and sad to bother questioning it. And allowed himself to stand there and cry, like Karen in Pinkerton's grasp. Which, to many people around him, was considered very odd. Kenny didn't cry. Especially not in front of someone he just met yesterday for ten minutes. But maybe the tears were set free when an enormous weight was taken off his shoulders. Suffocating him in eternal misery.


	6. The new, the old and the weary

A snowy, repeatitive, sad, cold few days later, he sat at the cafeteria, alone, this time Cartman wasn't expressing his bodily fluids into his ear, Butters wasn't harassing him. Alone, until Janet sat with him once again, quietly, and asked him

"Kenny, what is wrong?" she asked, tentatively, like asking some kid who grazed their knee if they were okay. Kenny had to think of something fast, it couldn't be the same exact reason.

"Karen's getting beaten up by Pinkerton" he lied, not entirely sure if Karen really was being beaten up by her. Janet's expression of sympathy remained set

"dude, we should do something about it" she commented.

Stan overheard this at another table and shouted

"Bullying should kill itself!" everyone just stared him back into his seat. Stan slowly picked up his fork, looking around the tables and slowly the hum of conversations broke out into the stony silence, laughter, cutlery clinking together and people chatting like nothing was wrong. Kenny looked around, wait, how did everyone get in here so fast? Lunch was already on!? He thought why do I keep getting lost in my thoughts!? Ten minutes ago, everyone wasn't here!

"Kenny?" Janet asked, sympathetically

"you really need to talk if you want to solve your issue, Kenny" she said with a serious undertone "I'll help you". Was she being serious!? Would Janet really help Kenny beat the living shit out of Pinkerton!? Kenny stood and left for the courtyard, Janet following him behind.

He walked past Kyle and Cartman bickering heatedly, outside the boys bathroom, he walked past Butters singing with an apple, how gay. He walked past Wendy and Stan sharing subliminal messages through weird eye gazing, he walked past principle Victoria scolding Craig's middle finger, he walked past his locker, he walked past the doors, he walked past the blood splattered bus and up to Pinkerton shaking Karen by the shirt.

Janet kept walking, stood by Kenny's side. "hey, Pinkerton!" Janet began.

k


	7. Confrontation

Karen was writhing in Pinkerton's grasp, grappling Pinkerton's grip on her shirt. When Pinkerton saw Kenny and Janet standing in front of her, her fist aimed high, ready to swat, she dropped Karen who stumbled away with relief, colliding with the snow, out of the way, bawling.

"Pinkerton!" Janet shouted, Pinkerton saw Janet's expression of business and recoiled only to spring towards them, angry. It all happened so quickly, Kenny didn't dare want to remember how it happened since it was so frightening and fast. It also marked an important day for Kenny, he thought.

How she managed to get her hands on a Nurf, no one knows, but what everyone that was present knew, was what she did. She lifted a pistol from her jacket and aimed at Pinkerton. About three things happened at once, Pinkerton froze, mid trumpet and fist shake, Janet's finger was pressing the trigger and was about to click when, Karen sprang in front of Pinkerton, screaming

"No! Don't kill her! I just want you to reprimand her!" arms waving around. The second thing that happened was that an orange parka shoved her out the way, just as Janet clicked the trigger that was the third thing. And they all happened at once. As Kenny went down, he collapsed into a heap, gripping a bubbling wound and watching lights spiral and swoop like fireworks on New Year's Eve.

Pinkerton, horrified about what just happened, ran away. Janet dropped the gun, face white with horror, trauma and absolute misery, dropping to her knees beside Kenny, she shook her head, horrified

"Kenny! I'm so sorry!" she started, trying to hug Kenny to herself. Kenny looked around annoyed,"get Karen away from me! I don't want her to see me!" he swatted an arm helplessly, as if to make Karen disappear. Karen stood there, silent and wide eyed. Janet tried again, to be reassuring, without success, she was horrified about what she had done. shaking, snot and tears bubbling out as fast as Kenny's angry gunshot wound. Kenny tried to be reassuring, he was surprised and confused as to why Janet was crying so hard, hugging Kenny painfully. Kenny tried to speak with calmness

"Dude, I'll be fine! I'll be back shortly! Remember, I can't die, Janet" he tried, putting on a face of reassurance. Janet didn't seem to take any of it

"you won't! you're not coming back, Kenny! I'm sorry!" Kenny rolled his eyes, annoyed, why did everyone believe he wasn't ever going to come back? He glared at Karen, trying his hardest to silently tell her to leave him alone. Watching Janet sob fat tears, he thought why didn't Stan or Kyle come? Why didn't Cartman come? Why was Janet the only one that expressed heartfelt sorrow? He looked sideways, and saw Stan and Kyle stand there. Like nothing happened. Giving up on reassurance, he lay there, waiting to wake up, at home. Janet cried for what seemed for hours. He knew chest wounds were usually instant. But this one wasn't. this was the longest death he had ever experienced. Adrenaline was subsiding, and pain was taking it's grasp, when Janet hiccupped words that Kenny never, in his whole entire life, would ever have dreamed to have heard.

"Kenny, I am immortal"


	8. A Serendipity (final chapter)

"Janet, you're immortal?"

he asked, voice flattening. Janet nodded her her head, slowly. Blood was already drying on her clothes and she didn't appear to notice. or she knew but she didn't care. she sobbed, everyone around her just stared at them as if a movie was playing. except, for Kenny, the credits were about to roll, spelling the end. Kenny, ignoring Karen's frozen state, face of disbelief, Kenny decided to ask Janet why she was immortal. Just for curiosity's sake . Kenny remarked

"I'm dying to know, Janet" he was really dying. And he was also dying to know, too.

Janet hiccuped "I.. " she croaked ".. my parents went to the cult meeting too" her voice was jagged and rasping "I can't die, either, Kenny". She shaking and looked as if she had a gun barrel held to her head, she looked that traumatized. why was Janet the one who looked traumatized and no one else? He didn't care anymore.

The lights and fireworks that danced, bowed and swooped past Kenny's field of vision started to slow and blur Kenny's sight.

"Thanks Janet." Kenny uttered gratefully. he, at first, wasn't sure why he was relieved. Then he knew why. He would die, never come back. and they would remember it. Death was permanent, and that was the way it was supposed to work.

Just the way Death wanted it. Just the way Death planned for each and every living thing to do in their life: _Live.  
_


	9. Kenny's will prologue

**Dear living **

Life is a beautiful thing that can be taken away from you in a second. Sometimes it can be taken away without you even realizing. But…. What is life when you're in a persistent comatose/vegetative state? What is life? Yeah. What the f*ck is life?

I'm just a shell. A small, orange coloured shell. I'm trapped under like someone's pressed pause. When would doctors know to pull the plug? When? I mean think about it, Put a glass of water in the fridge. You're water. You can't move. The glass is your prison. And the fridge is your cold, hard chamber. The fridge is a cold hard nutshell. The fridge is a chamber that keeps the water in the glass cold and alive.

The body is the fridge, your body that everyone sees. YOU are the water. The glass is your life support which is stopping you from spilling everywhere and being free. To be frank with you, being in a persistent comatose state is actually as annoying as purgatory. We're just waiting to go. Instead of traveling the unknown, I'm stuck in this dark colour and soundless room. Waiting.

Life allows you to cry, love, laugh, sing, jump, comb your hair, eat, crap, shout and of course jack it. Life is a very fragile thing, we all know. I mean, life is designed for living, moving, adventuring, swimming and plenty other things. So I don't entirely know what you mean by "Kept alive" because all I know is that you're trapping me inside a fridge. I am the glass of water. I want out.

You're looking at meat, blood and lungs and nothing else. I'm just stuck in a black room with nothing. But if you're sure I'll come back, please for the love of god-

.


End file.
